


The Things That Are Deadly

by kugure



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, M/M, Torture, Warlock Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 12:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19812658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kugure/pseuds/kugure
Summary: “You saved me and healed me,” Derek insisted. “And I can’t pay you—”“Jesus,” Stiles cut him off, but not harshly. He sounded like he was a little amused instead. “Calm your werewolf ass, buddy. Can’t someone just help someone without wanting something in return?”It couldn't be that simple, because Derek's world didn't work like that.





	The Things That Are Deadly

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by the amazing [Himegimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HimegimiWrites/pseuds/HimegimiWrites)!!
> 
> Warning: There will be torture in this. I just mentioned it briefly. 
> 
> Title taken from Billie Eilish’s Bury A Friend.

Derek was tired. He didn't know how long he had been running. Probably for all of his life. Maybe for the past two hours. He wasn't so sure anymore. Even with his werewolf stamina, Derek knew his legs couldn’t take him any further anytime soon now. 

Then again, what was the point of running anyway? 

Derek heard a scream at the same time asa stabbing pain shot up his shoulder. It took a second more for him to realize that it was indeed himself who had screamed. Derek looked at his shoulder. He was pretty sure a bullet just hit him there. Wolfsbane. Seeing from how the veins around his shoulder had started turning black. 

Seriously, there was no point in running. 

So, Derek dropped down on his knees. He was tired. 

“Look at you, you filthy animal. Finally learning your place.” 

Derek heard nasty peals of laughter around him. For a second, he thought of fighting back.. But he’d already mentioned that he was tired, right? No point. 

“Cut off his head so we can claim our bounty.” 

Derek could hear someone unsheathing a blade. He could smell the cold iron in the air, amongst the smell of his own blood and wolfsbane. He closed his eyes. It wasn't the worst way to die. He could hear the blade being lifted in the air, and Derek wondered whether he’d be able to or how would it feel to meet his family again. Would they forgive him? 

The blade was being dropped, and Derek braced himself for the impact, ready to feel the pain one last time before everything was over. But the impact never came. What he heard next though, was a small explosion. After that, the dull noise of bodies being thrown around. 

Derek frowned and opened his eyes, but the alley was too dark and his eyesight was getting blurrier by the second because of the wolfsbane poisoning. He only knew that the hunters were no longer surrounding him rather laying around on the ground instead. His frown deepened.

_ What happened?  _

“Oh my God, you look like shit.” 

There was an unfamiliar voice. The tone was far from the degrading tone the hunters usually used on him. The voice sounded panicked.

“Stay awake, buddy. Don't you dare die on me now.” 

Derek felt his body being moved, and he groaned in pain. He didn't want to move. Derek let his head fell down, and his forehead met a shoulder which wasn't his. The shoulder smelled like sandalwood. It was unfamiliar yet, comforting all the same. 

“You're gonna be fine. Come on.” 

The last thing Derek remembered before sleep took over was being surrounded by that sandalwood smell. 

* * *

Derek woke up to a very unfamiliar surrounding, made all of his hackles rise and if he wasn’t too weak, he was pretty sure he would shift. However, it hurt just to move his limbs, so Derek tried to suppress his groans and woke up slowly. 

“Hey, hey.” A voice alerted Derek. He whipped his head towards the source and noticed someone standing in front of a door. His muscles stiffened and he crouched into position ignoring how his body screamed in pain. He needed to be ready to attack whoever it was. What Derek registered first was the sandalwood scent. It triggered a memory that made him recognize that the guy standing in the doorway was the same guy from last night. 

“Hey, It’s alright.” the guy spoke again, “I’m not gonna attack you, I swear. I just wanna check your wound. Please?”

The guy kept his distance and Derek realized that he was trying to appear as non-threatening as possible; he showed both of his hands, palms facing Derek. Derek assessed him for a bit longer. He was still wary, but he was kind of hurting and maybe this guy truly wanted to help. If he wanted Derek dead, he would’ve just left him at the alley last night. In the end, Derek nodded. 

The guy beamed at him as he stepped closer, and Derek watched his every movement. 

“I’m Stiles, by the way,” he said, as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to Derek. He had pale skin with moles scattered across his cheek and neck. His eyes were brown, but when the light hit it, it looked like honey. He was  _ gorgeous  _ and smelled  _ so  _ good. Probably one of the most attractive guys Derek had ever seen in his life. And currently, he was alternating between pursing his lips and biting it—Derek tried not to focus too long on those lips—as he checked the bandage on Derek’s shoulder. And that made Derek aware that he was bare chested with only a white bandage covering his shoulder and torso. Gladly, he still wore his jeans though. 

So the guy’s name was Stiles. Derek had a vague feeling that he had heard that name somewhere before— “Stiles Stilinski,” Derek gasped. “The Great Red Warlock.” Derek was a fool for not recognizing him immediately. Stiles was a big name in the supernatural world. He was the strongest warlock in the whole continent, people said that he was the one who takes care of all of the ley lines in the United States of America, all by himself. The rumour also said that he was the one who killed every member of the Alpha pack when they went rampage. 

And Derek was currently sitting on his bed—judging from the strong sandalwood smell around him, which Derek was also late to discern, he was such a failure—wearing nothing but his jeans, unguarded. 

But again, if he was really as strong as the rumour told, then he could killed Derek easily, with or without his werewolf power. 

However, Stiles grimaced when Derek mentioned his full name and his title. “People are exaggerating when they call me that,” he said instead. “I’d rather you not use that stupid title and just call me Stiles. Your wound looks okay by the way,” he added, his palm hovered on top of the wound, and then it started glowing. And before Derek knew it, the wound disappeared along with all the aches in his entire body. Derek stared at Stiles in awe. “Sorry, I have to wait until all the wolfsbane is out from your system before healing it completely or it would be useless.” Stiles patted Derek’s shoulder gently. “Just wait for a while then you’re good to go.”

Derek felt as good as new. He didn’t know that someone could use healing magic as easily as Stiles. But he was  _ The Great Red Warlock _ , after all. And now that he was healed, his body tensed as he glared at Stiles. 

“What do you want from me.”

Stiles blinked at that. As if he was trying to figure out whether Derek was joking or not. When Derek kept his expression stoic, Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Okay, there are two wrong things from your question—first, it doesn’t sound like a question at all. And secondly, why would you assume I want something from you?” Stiles rolled his eyes as he stood up. “I made bacon and scrambled eggs if you want some breakfast before you leave though.” And with that, Stiles walked out of the room, leaving Derek more confused than ever. 

He quickly got up and followed Stiles. The guy was heading to the kitchen. The place was small, but not  _ too  _ small. It was enough for someone who lived alone, and the sandalwood scent was everywhere. 

“You saved me and healed me,” Derek insisted. “And I can’t pay you—”

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Stiles cut him off, but not harshly. He sounded like he was a little amused instead. “Calm your werewolf ass, buddy. Can’t someone just help someone without wanting something in return?”

Derek shook his head. Because it was never as simple as that. After his pack reduced to just him and Laura, they would do anything to survive. Everyone would use werewolves’ strength for anything in exchange for some food and sometimes money. And after Laura’s death, Derek had been  _ used _ , mostly for sex with how he looked—he was well aware of that, well it wasn’t the first time he was being used like that, to be honest, especially after  _ her _ —and even though he hated it, he couldn’t do anything. He was a packless alpha. It was either being used or dead. And he couldn’t afford to be dead because death was a luxury he didn’t deserve. 

Stiles opened his mouth, looked like he was about to say something, but then closed it again. When he spoke, Derek was sure it wasn’t what he wanted to say initially. 

“Alright. If you’re so adamant that I want something from you, then sit down, eat breakfast with me, and give me your name.”

Now, it was Derek’s turn to blink dumbly. “That’s it?”

Stiles put a plate full of bacon and eggs in front of him. “That’s it.”

Derek was still wary about it, but he slowly sat down and said, “Derek.”

“Well, nice meeting you, Derek,” Stiles responded with a blinding smile.

* * *

Stiles didn’t let him leave the house until the warlock was sure that he was fully healed. No matter how many times Derek said that he was fine and he didn’t want to impose. The warlock must be busy anyway, instead of fussing over a werewolf like him. 

“Stop glaring at me and let me check,” Stiles insisted, glared back at Derek until Derek complied and sat down on the couch after breakfast. “I don’t want you to end up dead in the area. That would give me more trouble.”

Derek grunted, but let Stiles check himself. He didn’t touch him, he just hovered his palm on Derek’s shoulder and chest, did the glowing thing again. It didn’t even take long before Stiles nodded to himself, seeming satisfied. “You’re good to go now,” he said, smiling at Derek. “Your clothes on the table, I already cleaned off the blood and fixed it with magic as well.” He stood up. “If you wanna stay, I don’t mind though.”

Derek stood up as well and shook his head. “Thank you,” he said, and Stiles waved him off as he disappeared into the kitchen again. Derek took his clothes—it looked as good as new—and when he was ready to go, he approached Stiles in the kitchen. 

“I’m—I’m going.”

Stiles looked up from his laptop and smiled warmly at Derek. “Sure. Take care, buddy.”

Derek lingered though, staring at Stiles’ shoulder because he couldn’t look at his blinding smile directly. It did weird things to his insides. “Are you sure you don’t need anything from me? For helping me last—”

Stiles clicked his tongue in a dismissive manner. “Don’t worry about it. We supernatural beings have to take care of each other anyway, right?”

Derek wanted to insist, but he didn’t know what he could give Stiles. He didn’t have money. He didn’t have a place to stay beside his burned husk of a house in the preserve, which wasn’t safe anymore because the hunters had managed to track him there and chase him until the alley last night. So, he just nodded to Stiles and left. 

* * *

Being saved by Stiles felt like a dream to Derek. A very nice one. Because for once, he felt safe, even though for only a couple of hours. Now, that he was outside again, the feeling of safety dissipated and paranoia caught him back. 

It has been a few days since he met Stiles, and Derek still hadn’t gone back to his burnt house. He got close last night, but it smelled a lot like hunters. It made his wolf wanted to attack, but he knew better than to act reckless. 

So, Derek stayed in the preserve. Inside the small secret cave that he and Laura used to use as a hiding place from their parents back then. He sat down against the stone wall and closed his eyes. He was tired. He was tired of being scared of the hunters. He was tired of missing his pack—his family. He was tired of feeling not safe all the time. He was tired of being on the run all the time. At this point, he was pretty certain that the tiredness wouldn’t leave him in forever. 

When he closed his eyes, what he could see was Laura, bloodied and telling him to run. And Derek saw himself being a coward, running away from Laura instead of trying to save her. And when he came back to her later, she was lifeless and no matter how many times Derek called her name, she didn’t move. 

And Derek was alone. 

* * *

The full moon was difficult for Derek for a long time. After his whole family died ten years ago and left just him and Laura, it was pretty painful. But now after Laura was gone as well, made Derek a packless wolf, the lone alpha, it was even harder. It was already his third full moon alone, and he still couldn’t bear the pain. He tried to be as quiet as possible though, didn’t want to attract any of the hunters nearby. He was in pain and without a pack, he was weak. Derek could only curl against himself, hoping that the pain would get over soon. 

He was too immersed in his pain he didn’t realize that someone was entering the cave. Derek forced himself to uncurl. He was in no state to fight against any hunters, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight. He growled, and when the hunter got close enough, he leapt and attacked. 

Only to be greeted with a loud, “Holy crap!” and then he couldn’t move a single limb. 

Derek was about to roar when he noticed the comforting sandalwood scent. The human in front of him wasn’t a hunter. In fact, it wasn’t really a human. But Stiles. 

The warlock had his palm clutched against his heart, breathing fast, and he stared wide-eyed at Derek. The sandalwood scent and the sight of Stiles calmed Derek somehow, but he still couldn’t move. 

“Oh shit. Sorry,” Stiles said as if he could read Derek’s mind. He waved his hand once, and suddenly Derek could move again. He was no longer in his attacking stance though, only stared at Stiles with a confused expression. 

“I’m really sorry,” Stiles said again, breathing evenly now. “I—um, I kinda put a spell on you last time, so that I’ll know if you’re hurt, and the spell has been alerting me all night. I thought you were in danger so I tracked you down in case you need help,” he explained, looked really guilty and confused as well as he looked around. Clearly, he had realized that Derek was alone in the cave. 

Derek should be mad that Stiles did that to him without his consent. But at the same time, it was the first time someone outside his pack willingly helping him. Well, the second time actually, since Stiles also helped him a few days ago. The fact that Stiles  _ cared _ about Derek’s well being somehow made him less angry. 

Stiles gave Derek a worried look. “Are you okay?”

Derek wanted to nod and ask Stiles to leave him alone, but then he felt the moon pull and he whimpered in pain, curled and made himself as small as possible. When the pain subsided a little, Stiles was already kneeling next to him. 

“You’re Derek Hale, aren’t you,” Stiles said, not really asking. His tone was sad but not pitying, and Derek could only nod. Of course, Stiles had heard about him. The pathetic lone wolf who got his whole pack burned to death because he was stupid to trust a hunter, who couldn't protect his sister, his alpha, his last remaining family, to believe that he loved  _ her _ . “You’re coming with me,” Stiles said again, and before Derek could give any response, he already hauled Derek up, which Derek didn’t think would be possible from how skinny Stiles was compared to him, but the warlock managed. “Sleep, Derek,” he whispered, and suddenly Derek succumbed to a warm unconsciousness. 

* * *

Derek’s memory was a blur the whole night. He was on and off again and again with his consciousness. He registered at some point that he was being put to bed somehow, and it smelled a lot like Stiles, like it was Stiles’ bed and then the warlock himself wrapped him in a comfortable hug. Derek wasn’t sure. But it was the first time in months that he didn’t feel any pain at all during the full moon, so he didn’t protest and took that small mercy. 

* * *

When Derek was finally lucid, it was hours after. He didn’t know what time though, it was bright and from what he saw from the open window, it was probably sometime around noon. He blinked, slowly regaining consciousness. For once, it was the best post-full moon he ever had in a long while. His body wasn’t sore all over, he also didn’t feel wrung out. He felt… okay. 

Derek took notice of his surrounding, and he didn’t feel as disoriented when he first woke up here nights ago. He immediately recognized that he was in Stiles’ room, once again on his bed with how intense the sandalwood smell was.

But Stiles himself was nowhere in sight. 

Derek tried to prop himself up, only to find that he was in an unfamiliar pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, though he could tell that it was Stiles’. 

“Morning, buddy.”

Derek looked up and found Stiles already standing there in the doorway, smiling his best smile with a tray of food in his hands. “Here, I brought you food. Eat up.” He approached Derek and put the tray on the bedside table. “Holler if you need me.” He didn’t say anything else, just walked out of the room. 

Derek hesitated. Food sounded good right now, but he  _ couldn’t _ keep letting Stiles help him like this. He needed to do something in return. Because there was no way Stiles would do something for him without wanting anything back. And since Stiles was already powerful, Derek doubted that he wanted his power for anything. That left him another option he could do as payback. 

He got up from the bed and followed Stiles’ scent out of the room. 

Stiles was lounging in the middle of his sofa, taking up most of the space there. Well, mostly he occupied the space with books and papers while his laptop was there in front of him at the coffee table. His expression was serious, as he was reading something on the laptop before back to his book, and he kept doing that back and forth.

Derek knew that people hired The Great Red Warlock to help them with their supernatural problems, and as the best warlock in the country, Derek believed that Stiles got a lot of clients needing his help. Besides, unlike werewolves, warlocks were respected by society. They weren’t being hunted openly by hunters. So, why Stiles was helping him was still a mystery, but for now, Derek needed to focus on how to pay him back. 

Derek approached him.

“You need something, big guy?” 

Derek didn't answer that question, instead, he dropped to his knees, between Stiles' legs, and reached for his belt. He began undoing it. 

Derek might have managed to shock Stiles too much that Derek was able to open the zipper of Stiles’ jeans before Stiles could move his body and started flailing. He finally grabbed Derek's hands to stop him from any further movements. 

“ _ What are you doing _ ,” Stiles hissed. His pale skin was flushed red now. He looked even more attractive that way. 

“Trying to give you a blowjob.” Derek was pretty sure Stiles would taste just as good as he smelled and looked. 

Stiles gasped. Maybe he didn't like getting blowjobs? 

“I can ride you if you want to.” So, Derek offered him an alternative. 

And Stiles flushed even redder. 

“ _ Derek, no _ .” 

“I need to,” Derek answered firmly. “You saved me and helped me. I can't repay you in any other way than sex because I have nothing but my body.” 

Stiles stuttered, then settled on, “Oh my God, Derek. You don't have to repay me. Especially with  _ that.  _ Oh my God _. This is so wrong _ .”

Derek frowned. Stiles was a powerful warlock with his own titles. Maybe paying him with sex wouldn't be enough after all. Or maybe Stiles just didn’t like men, but Derek could suggest that he should close his eyes and pretend while he sucked him off. Many people did that with Derek before. 

“No,” Stiles said again, squinting his eyes. “To whatever you're thinking, no. Seriously. I'm just trying to help, Derek. I don't want anything from you.” 

Derek listened to Stiles’ heartbeat, and he blinked when he couldn't hear any lies in his words. Stiles didn't want anything from him? That wasn't how it usually worked. People always wanted something from him. Wanted him on his knees. Wanted him the one who did the fucking. Wanted him tied up. Wanted him dead. 

“Why are you helping me then?” 

Stiles was looking at Derek after he uttered that question as if Derek had grown another head. “Because I want to, Derek. Nothing else.” 

Derek stared at Stiles’ amber eyes, bewildered. Nobody ever said that to him before. 

Stiles sighed, and let go of Derek's hands. “I'll go make coffee, you can go back to your room and eat, or stay here, but we need to talk about this,” he said, getting up from the couch and left Derek there, still kneeling on the floor.

* * *

When Stiles came back to the living room, Derek was still in the same position as before, kneeling on the floor. He could hear Stiles sighing and then sat back down as he put the coffee cup on the table.

“Hey.”

Derek didn’t look up, stubbornly staring on the floor instead. He could feel Stiles leaned closer to him, but not touching him, still gave him some space that Derek didn’t know whether he should be grateful for or not. 

“You shouldn’t let anyone use you, Derek. Don't let anybody touch you without your full consent. Don’t let anybody force you to something you don’t want. You are worth more than that.” 

Derek gulped. “No. I am not.”

“And why is that?”

"Because I killed my whole family." 

"No, you are not. It's Kate Argent who did it." 

And at the mention of the name, Derek finally looked up, anger and grief in his eyes that flashed red, but Stiles didn't even flinch. " _ You know nothing _ ," Derek growled. "It's  _ me  _ who let Kate in. It was because of  _ me. All me.  _ I was stupid enough to believe that she loved me and I thought I loved her and — " his voice broke into an ugly sob. 

"Oh, Derek." 

And before he knew it, Stiles was hugging him, let him bury his face on the crook of his neck where the sandalwood smell was the strongest. That comfort of the scent only made Derek sobbed louder. 

He didn't know why he broke down now, of all times. It had been ten years. He couldn't even tell Laura that he was the one responsible for everything that happened to them. 

Maybe because Stiles wasn't his family. Maybe because Stiles was The Great Red Warlock, who was known for his justice, and Derek was ready to receive any judgment or punishment for what he did. 

But instead of doing all that, Stiles was just hugging him, rocking him gently and let Derek cry. 

Derek tried to push Stiles away, but even though Stiles let him had some space, he still had his hands in his. 

"Listen to me, Derek," he said firmly. "I met Kate Argent, and she got away from me once — something that I still regret . She bragged about what she did. And after listening to both of your version and hers, it is clear that what happened is not your fault. So, stop believing that. Stop punishing yourself over her cruelty. She seduced you, and you were just a  _ kid _ back then. You didn't know. She burned your whole family alive. Not you." 

Derek still hadn't stopped crying, but at least he wasn't sobbing so bad anymore. He looked at Stiles, didn't know what to say. 

"You still sure that I want something from you since I've been helping you a lot?" 

Derek nodded. 

"Okay. Then this is what I want from you; I want you to stop blaming yourself over what happened." 

Stiles' eyes didn't waver from his, as if he was trying to look right through Derek, and even though it didn't flash red or blue or  _ something _ , Derek tried his best not to flinch. 

"Can you do that for me?" 

And slowly, Derek nodded. 

* * *

Derek couldn’t stop thinking about what Stiles said to him. It was hard not to blame himself over everything that happened, especially after years thinking that it was indeed his fault. The blame had been seared on to his mind, and despite what Stiles said, he still thought that  _ if _ only he told his mother — his alpha — that he was seeing this older woman, perhaps his mother could take precautions and everyone would still be alive right now. He wouldn’t be so miserable now. 

So, what if Stiles was wrong in this? Even though he met Kate already, he still didn’t know what happened exactly. He wasn’t there. 

But since there was no way he would say that to the Warlock’s face without offending him, Derek kept it to himself. Stiles wanted him to stop blaming himself as payment anyway, so he would do that. At least he would try. 

“Don’t go back to that cave of yours, Derek,” Stiles told him when he sent him off from his house a few days ago. “Get some place to live for real. I can give you some recommendations. The tenant is my friend, she can give you a good price.” Stiles smiled and handed Derek a piece of paper with an address written on it. “Go to this place if you want. Ask for Lydia and tell her you’re a friend of mine. She’ll know what to do.”

Derek’s eyes widened at the casual statement. Stiles thought him as a friend? But, no. Stiles probably just said that without meaning it. He shouldn’t overthink it. 

But still, Derek found himself standing in front of the building from the said address at the moment. Because if by doing what Stiles said— which was to stop blaming himself— could be considered as payment, he would do just that to please Stiles. 

He took a deep breath and walked in. From the outside, the building was pretty nice. From the inside, it was clear that it was very well taken care of. He saw a door labeled as ‘office’, so he went there, knocked it twice before he heard a feminine voice said, “Come in,” and he went inside. 

The woman was beautiful with fiery red hair. She had a commanding aura around her and Derek knew immediately that she wasn’t human. 

“Good afternoon,” she said. Her eyes assessing. “Can I help you?” Something in her tone made Derek know that she was also aware of his status as a werewolf. 

Derek cleared his throat. Stiles recommended this place. There was no way he would send him towards the threat. “I’m Derek Hale. Stiles Stilinski sent me here — ” because he couldn’t refer to himself as Stiles’ friend even when the Warlock had given him permission to do that, “ — I’m looking for a place to stay?”

Her assessing expression softened when she heard Stiles’ name from Derek’s mouth and Derek wondered whether she was Stiles’ girlfriend. “Ah. Stiles told me about you.” Yes. She was definitely Stiles’ girlfriend. Derek couldn’t miss the fond tone he heard in her voice when she said Stiles’ name. “Please have a seat, Mr. Hale. I’m Lydia Martin. I have just the perfect offer for you.”

“Derek is fine,” Derek quickly said as he sat down. He felt unpleasant, knowing he was in the same room with Stiles’ significant other when he tried to suck his dick the other day. The unpleasant feeling nested in his chest, and he hoped his expression didn’t give him away. 

“Alright, Derek,” she said, pulled up some papers from her desk. “But before we start on your new living arrangement, you need to know that Stiles is my best friend, and we are not involved in any romantic relationships.”

Derek tried his best not to blush. “O-okay.”

She nodded and put the papers in front of Derek. “Let’s start then.”

Derek didn’t know why she told him that, but somehow, it lessened the unpleasant feeling Derek had. 

* * *

The apartment Derek lived in now was nice. It was simple, not too big, but enough for him since he lived alone. And for the first time, he finally lived in a place that didn’t reek of guilt, misery and the smell of burnt wood and smoke. It kind of cleared his mind a little. 

Derek hadn’t seen Stiles for weeks now. And he kind of… missing him? He didn’t know what he was feeling. It felt like he wanted to see Stiles, but since he had no business with him and Stiles was probably busy anyway, he didn’t seek him out. 

It was nearing full moon again though. He didn’t know whether he could survive this time without a pack. He knew he only survived last full moon because of Stiles, and probably he had mistaken the feeling he had over Stiles because of that. Maybe he didn’t miss Stiles. Maybe he was just afraid to be alone again. Nevertheless, he still hoped that he could just go to see him. 

It wasn’t his place though. 

* * *

Derek spent his days by trying to rearrange his life again into a better shape. He visited his family graves, cried and told them that he was sorry. He hoped they would forgive him. 

And then he received a phone call from someone named Scott McCall. Told him that his flower shop could use some help now and he was welcome to work there. Derek was confused at first, until Scott told him, “Stiles told me about you. He said that maybe you need something to do. But he also said that you might refuse,” Scott added. “So, it’s okay if you don’t want to, but if you do, you know where my shop is.”

Stiles was helping him again. Stiles had given him so much and Derek couldn’t give him anything in return.

Derek needed to see Stiles, to know what his deal actually was, but instead of going to Stiles’ house, Derek was already inside McCall’s Flowershop a few days later. 

Maybe Scott could give him some insights over how Stiles’ mind worked. 

Scott greeted him enthusiastically when he came in, and it took Derek by surprise because he could feel that Scott was also an alpha werewolf. Derek felt his hackles rise at his presence, but Scott didn’t seem bothered at all. Unfortunately, he needed to do delivery run so he ran out quickly before Derek could say anything, whether it was about Stiles or about how he was okay with another alpha werewolf in his territory. 

“I’m Isaac Lahey. Scott’s beta.”

Derek turned around to see a guy with blond hair smiling at him.

“I know you’re confused, but it’s really okay, you know,” Isaac said again. “Scott isn’t like any other alphas. He grew up with Stiles, so they’re practically brothers. And they do this a lot.” He gestured to Derek and himself. “They adopted me too a few years back. And now, if you don’t mind helping me moving those fertilizers to the storage, that would be great.”

* * *

Derek was minding his own business at the nearby bar when he smelled hunters nearby. He was ready to flee, but the hunters spotted him first. 

“There you are, Hale,” they said under their breath but with his werewolf’s hearing, the voice was pretty clear even under the cacophony of people around them. “We’ve been looking for you. Kate will be happy to see you again.”

Derek’s blood ran cold upon hearing Kate’s name. He knew Kate was still hunting him to eradicate all werewolves of Hale lines, but it had been a month without Kate and her group. Derek thought he was safe. With a new place to live, new routine as well at the flower shop — and he was pretty sure Stiles had something to do with it — but he should know that Kate always caught up with him. No matter what. 

Derek made a beeline towards the back door, tried to move as fast as possible without causing a ruckus. At least if they decided to attack, it wouldn’t involve other people. He slipped out to the dark alley behind the bar, and he was reminded of the night when the hunters cornered him before Stiles saved him moons ago. He gulped. He hoped it didn’t end the same way. 

He heard the hunters behind him, three people. He could take three people. He could get away from this. But then his eyes caught movements ahead of him and he saw four — no, five more hunters with wolfsbane coated knives in their hands. The signature of Kate’s troop. They didn’t use wolfsbane bullets or arrows. Just knives. And Derek didn’t know whether he would make it out of here alive anymore. 

Derek stopped in the middle, couldn’t take a step backward or forward. Not with eight hunters surrounding him. 

“You’ve been so hard to track these days, Hale,” one of them said, sneered at him. 

“Kate’s been missing you.”

Derek shivered over the memory of Kate  _ touching _ him, and he let his eyes flash red, as he roared at them. 

He wouldn’t let them take him easily. Not anymore. 

* * *

When Derek came to consciousness, he felt himself being chained to the wall. His skin around the chain blistered, and the strong smell of wolfsbane made him dizzy. Or maybe it was caused by the amount of blood he had lost from all the wounds on his body. 

“Well, well, nice to meet you again, Derek.”

That voice made Derek looked up and snarled. Kate was there, beautiful and evil in a way that Derek would never forget. She smiled viciously at him and then traced his torso with the tip of her knife. His skin broke over the contact and he bled, but the wound started closing again. It was just a regular knife then. 

“Let’s have some fun before I send you to the rest of your family, okay? Just like what we did back then.”

Derek tried to attack her when she started to cut him open, but the chain wouldn’t break, and his scream was drowned by Kate’s laughter. 

* * *

Derek didn’t know how long Kate tortured him. He kept bleeding and healing over and over again. 

“You’re prettier now. Maybe I should keep you as a pet instead, hm? What do you think?”

Derek growled and Kate laughed louder. She pressed the knife on his torso and sliced it open, but keeping the knife placed there to prevent it from healing.

“I promise you, it would be fun.”

Derek tried to growl but the sound came out from his throat was more like a whimper. He started to lose consciousness again, and he thought maybe he should fight it. It would be less painful if he wasn’t conscious anyway, right?

Derek took a shaky breath, and beneath the strong wolfsbane smell, he could pick up a soft scent of sandalwood. It made Derek want to laugh. Was this his brain trying to comfort him? Well, he appreciated it either way.

“I need you to get away from him.”

Wait. Wasn’t that Stiles’ voice? Why is his brain playing such a thorough trick on him?

“Isn’t it The Great Red Warlock? What do I owe the pleasure to?”

Kate’s response made Derek force himself to look up. He shook his head a little to clear it and blinked when he saw Stiles standing right there across the room. Scott, Isaac and Lydia were behind him. Scott’s eyes burned red while Isaac’s were gold. They were both in their beta form. Lydia didn't shift, but she looked terrifying with her fiery red hair framing his face While Stiles, his eyes lit a beautiful shade of purple, and where Derek usually saw kindness and some mischief on his expression, this time he only saw rage. Full of it. 

“You’ve been warned, Kate,” Stiles said again, voice icy cold it sent a shiver through Derek’s spine. 

Instead of doing what Stiles said though, Kate pressed the knife deeper into Derek’s torso and Derek screamed in pain. But then he heard a choked sound coming from Kate, and when he opened his eyes to see what was actually happening, Kate was already floating in front of him. Her body rigid. Her eyes wide open in horror. 

Stiles had his hand stretched out towards Kate, as if he was choking her from afar and the purple of his eyes glinted dangerously. “You have done enough atrocities in your whole life. No more mercy for you, Kate Argent.” Stiles’ voice sounded heavy, like there were multiple voices using his vocal cords at once. “It is time for you to pay for all of your evildoings.” 

Kate gurgled, and Stiles made a fist out of his outstretched hand, and in a blink of an eye, her body dissipated. Leaving not a single trace behind. Like Kate Argent never existed. 

“You’re okay now, Derek.”

Derek blinked and Stiles was already in front of him. The chains that restrained him were gone too and the next thing he knew, he’d sagged against Stiles. Stiles carded his fingers through his hair gently, and Derek inhaled the comforting scent of sandalwood which calmed him a lot. 

“Let’s bring you home.”

* * *

It all felt like a dream to him. That Kate was dead now. That The Great Red Warlock himself who put judgement on her. And that Derek was probably the safest as he could be at the moment. Hunters would always be on his tail, but after a lot of reassuring from all Stiles, Scott and Isaac, he got back up now. 

And now, was the first full moon he ever experienced in ten years that didn’t feel like misery. The last full moon didn’t count because Stiles put him under a comforting spell and made him semi-unconscious most of the time, but now, he was fully awake. Whatever spell Stiles put him under now, he was grateful for it. Enjoying the full moon, he was sitting at the bottom of the stairs that led to Stiles’ backyard. Scott, Isaac and Lydia were there too, sitting together under the nearby tree, leaning against each other and exchanged stories. 

The pull of the moon felt comfortable now, instead of painful. 

“Here.”

Derek looked up and saw Stiles handing a cup of warm coffee to him. He held one, and the other three cups were floating nearby before he sent them towards Scott, Isaac and Lydia’s direction while he sat down next to Derek. 

Stiles sat close, pressed up warmly against him from shoulder to leg. Derek found himself leaning heavier against the warlock as he nursed his cup of coffee. 

"Why do you care for me," Derek said, looked down at his cup. That question had been frequenting Derek's mind for months now, since the very first time Stiles saved him in that alley. 

Stiles nudged him gently, made Derek turn his head towards him and caught him smiling. Derek found himself admiring that smile and the way Stiles' eyes glinted prettily under the full moon. "Isn't that what pack is for?" 

That caught Derek off guard. "We — we are — " 

Stiles chuckled, then sipped his coffee. "Last full moon was blurry for you I guess, but with a whole lot of cuddles we did, I'm pretty sure you've accepted me as part of your pack." 

Derek's eyes widened. He did imagine that Stiles was cuddling him last month, but he thought that was his imagination only? 

"And of course, since this full moon you're not in pain, it's a solid proof that I'm your pack indeed." 

Derek's mouth gaped open. "What? But I thought it was because of some spell you did — " 

Stiles laughed. The sound was so pleasant in Derek's ears.

"You see, as  _ The Great Red Warlock _ ," he said his own title in a mocking way, and then continued, "I know some things that most wouldn't know until the time comes." Stiles looked up at where Scott, Isaac and Lydia sat, now curled up together and looking contented. "I always trust my magic. It has led me to Scott, Lydia, and then Isaac." 

Derek wondered whether Stiles also saved them from their own nightmares, but he guessed it wasn't the right time nor place to talk about that. 

"And it led me to you too." Stiles put his cup of coffee down. "One day, Derek, you will understand why, but until then, I am your packmate." 

Stiles looked back at Derek, and Derek saw his eyes flicker down to his mouth for a split second. And Derek himself was so, so tempted to just lean in, eliminate the remaining space between them, but he managed to stop himself from doing that. Because what if it was just his imagination. 

"I hope you don't mind having a spaz warlock as your packmate though," Stiles added with a huge grin on his face which Derek found he reciprocated with his own smile. 

"I don't," Derek said. 

And later, when Stiles finally fell asleep on Derek's shoulder sometime before dawn, Derek found that he wouldn't mind it as well to have Stiles as more than a packmate. 

But it was a thought that he would consider further at a later date. Because for now, what he had with Stiles was enough. 

* * *

Derek didn’t let himself not see Stiles for more than two days after that. And gladly, Stiles indulged his clinginess. He spent most of his time at Scott’s shop or at Lydia’s office — because he found out that helping them helped him relax more and by helping them, he didn’t spend his time alone. When he was alone, he tended to dwell on his own guilt and grief still. 

When he wasn’t at Scott’s or Lydia’s, he went to Stiles’ place. Stiles even gave him a key. When he refused, because they didn’t know each other for that long, Stiles just laughed and pushed the key to Derek’s chest.

And if Derek wore the key as a necklace now because it kind of left him feeling grounded, Stiles didn’t need to know that. 

By spending time with Stiles, Derek found out that Stiles was actually the type who needed someone to take care of him. Because with how busy he was, he often forgot to eat or sleep. 

“Good thing you’re here now,” Scott said to him, patted his shoulder with his signature sunshine smile. “He always listens to you.”

Derek didn’t know why Stiles listened to him more than everybody else though. Scott was practically his brother. Lydia was the bossiest person in the whole universe. And Stiles knew Isaac longer than Derek. But still, Stiles would only eat or rest when Derek told him to, while when someone else did it, it just pissed Stiles off. 

And nobody wanted to deal with a pissed powerful warlock. 

That was just one thing Derek still didn’t quite understand. He also still didn’t understand how their group worked. Two alphas, one beta, one banshee — Derek didn’t know that banshees existed until Lydia — and one warlock. Stiles often said that they were two packs that co-exist really well, and since Derek had no other explanation for it, he just went with what Stiles said. 

The more Derek spent his time on Stiles’ place, the more Stiles roped him into helping on the cases he was working on. And Derek didn’t mind. He was glad to help with whatever he could — for all that Stiles had done for him, this was just a small favor, barely counted. And sometimes, Stiles asked him to travel with him too. 

“At least this way, we have more guarantee on having him back safely to us,” Lydia commented when Derek said to her that he was going to go with Stiles for few days for a case. Derek personally disagreed Lydia’s statement, because Stiles was a very powerful warlock who didn’t need an alpha werewolf to play bodyguard for him, but he didn’t argue with her. 

Full moons were definitely better too. They always spent it at Stiles’ backyard, where his magic protected them all to shift freely without worrying over being seen by people. And sometimes, Stiles also changed himself to an animal so he could play with them. He offered to change Lydia too, but she firmly refused and opted to spend the night reading or watching romantic movies by herself. She let Scott and Isaac cuddle her after though. 

And Derek kind of wanted that too, but  _ not with Lydia _ , though he wasn’t sure Stiles would be willing or not. He was too afraid to ask. However, Stiles put the matter into his own hands and dragged Derek upstairs, to his room, and let Derek cuddle him for the whole night.

Derek hoped he could have this every night, instead of just full moon nights, but he knew there were some boundaries that he couldn’t cross. 

But apparently, Derek forgot all about that boundaries when he found Stiles come home,  _ smelling of stranger _ . 

His eyes flashed red and Stiles winced at that. Derek tried his best to stay in place instead of attacking Stiles. 

“Some guy, er, harassed me — wait, that sounds so bad — but anyway, not a big deal. I kicked his ass. I thought you wouldn’t be he here so I hoped I could get a shower first before you — ”

Derek didn’t let finished his words though, as he already moved and cornered Stiles against the wall, couldn’t hold back any longer. And he knew very well that Stiles could overpower him, a great warlock like him, being cornered by an alpha werewolf was not a threat. But the fact that Stiles didn't do anything, just looked at his eyes, and  _ let  _ Derek cage him like this made Derek's heart beat even faster. 

He couldn’t wait anymore. He knew what he was feeling for Stiles, and he wanted to act on it, but Stiles’ rejection back then was still fresh in his mind. 

Derek knew Stiles rejected him back then because his reason wasn’t… right, but he was still too afraid to try again. 

Now though, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.  _ He needed it _ . 

He swallowed nervously before saying, “Remember when you said that I shouldn't let anybody touch me without my full consent? Well. This is me, giving my full consent to you, Stiles.” 

For a second, Stiles didn't respond and Derek was so ready to be pushed away harshly with magic force because Stiles didn't say anything or do anything but look back at him with an unreadable expression. Derek already braced himself for an attack from Stiles, when Stiles finally blinked and licked his lips. Derek's eyes automatically followed that movement. And then, instead of a force to shove him away, Derek got a pair of warm hands cupping his face—Stiles'—and Derek couldn't  _ not _ close his eyes, enjoying the soft touch. 

Derek tilted his head to one side, baring his neck to Stiles while burying his face on Stiles’ neck and inhaled his scent. Stiles  _ always _ smelled good to him. Smelled right. Like a place to come home to. And he hoped Stiles thought the same of him. He didn't know what to do if Stiles rejected him. 

And as if Stiles knew what Derek was thinking, he pressed a soft kiss to the pulse on his neck, assuring. The gesture made Derek’s grip a little tighter on Stiles’ body. He wouldn't mind staying like this forever. Not thinking about anything. Just him and Stiles. No hunters. No dead family. No threats. 

“I want to,” Stiles said finally. Derek could feel his mouth moved against his neck, could feel every warm breath it produced. “I want to and I'm glad that you’re giving me the permission. But you have to understand one thing.” 

Stiles pushed Derek away for real this time, but not too far, only enough so that they could look eye to eye again. “I don't wanna do this because you owe me, Derek Hale,” Stiles said, firmly. “If we're going to do this, then we're gonna work together for real relationship. Not because you owe me.” 

Stiles’ gaze was scrutinizing, and Derek nodded. “Yeah,” he responded. “I understand.” 

The smile that Stiles gave him was blinding and warmed Derek's core in the most pleasant way. “Good.” And the kiss that followed afterwards was enough to melt Derek and the only thing that kept him from melting away was Stiles’ presence. 

* * *

When Stiles led him towards the bed, sat him down on the edge while he stood between his spread legs and started undoing his button. Stiles’ fingers touched his skin as it was being revealed, it made Derek shiver. Stiles’ touches and the look he gave him was so intense,it made Derek's heart beat like crazy against his ribcage. Derek couldn't help but stare back into Stiles’ eyes, hypnotized. Never in his life, he was at the end of such an intense gaze. Stiles looked at him like he was something precious. He touched him like he was something to be cherished. Something that Derek didn't think he would ever be worthy of. 

But Stiles made him believe that he deserved it. As his clothes fell down and exposed his skin, Stiles’ warm palms covered it, traced the back of his neck and his shoulder, before Stiles’ palm went down to his chest, right on top of his heart. Derek searched on Stiles’ expression, wanted to know what he thought about his heart beat, that beat crazily because of him. Stiles smiled at him, warm, and it settled Derek. Stiles leaned down, made the tip of their nose touched and Derek closed his eyes compliantly. Enjoying Stiles’ warmth and presence around him. 

He let Stiles had the control. And he would gladly do whatever he wanted to. Derek trusted him. Completely. 

It should be terrifying. But what Derek felt was just a deep sort of contentment. He knew Stiles would take good care of him. 

So, when Stiles pushed him down to the bed and crawled on top of him while taking off his own clothes, Derek gulped. Though he wasn't afraid. He was still as sure as before when he proposed this earlier. He would love to have Stiles however he wanted him. Derek felt his shoulder bumping against the headboard, made him stop moving. Stiles was already fully naked now, hovering on top of Derek. His fingers moved on top of the button of his jeans, undoing it skillfully, and Derek lifted his hips a little so that Stiles could tug it all the way down, left Derek as bare as Stiles. 

Stiles leaned down and started to kiss Derek's body, all the skin within his reach. Started from his hip, and up to his abdomen, torso—Derek could feel his heart stutter uncontrollably when Stiles’ lips made contact with his chest right above his heart—and then his shoulder before he nuzzled his neck. 

Derek let out a soft moan, tilted his head to give Stiles’ more access. Stiles was being so gentle, made Derek tremble, but Stiles also held him firmly so he didn't fall apart. No one ever treated him like this before. Everyone else just wanted a quick release, used Derek's body as a tool for that goal. 

While Stiles, he worshipped him. 

Stiles’ mouth moved from his neck to his jaw, and then when it finally landed on Derek's mouth, Derek was ready. He had his own lips parted, welcoming Stiles. He gripped the side of Stiles’ body, tried to anchor himself. 

But Stiles pulled away a little to whisper, “Let go, Derek. Don't hide from me.”

So Derek did. 

He felt his fangs and clawed elongated, but Stiles didn't even flinch. He kept kissing Derek around his canines, and Derek could feel his smile. 

“Just like that. Don't be afraid, Derek. You won't hurt me.” 

Derek knew that. Stiles was a powerful warlock. He knew Stiles already spelled himself so that he wouldn't get hurt by Derek's claws or fangs. 

“I'm gonna take care of you.” 

Derek looked at Stiles, and he nodded. “Yes, please.” 

* * *

The next morning, Derek woke up slowly. And when he caught Stiles next to him, breathing steadily, he couldn't help but stare. He wasn't sure how long he was staring at the warlock, but at some point, Stiles’ eyes fluttered and then those amber eyes were staring back at him. 

Stiles’ lips curled up to form a smile then, and when he shifted closer to press a soft, sleepy kiss to Derek's mouth, Derek felt like he was free for the first time after his whole family and pack died. 

He didn't feel anything but contentment, and freedom as if a huge burden had been lifted off of his shoulder. 

Derek returned the kiss generously, only stopping to let Stiles mumble “Good morning, Sourwolf,” before chasing Stiles’ lips again, morning breath be damned. 

He knew that this time, he could finally be happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by Banana Fish. Ash Lynx is seriously a good source of inspiration. Especially his relationship with Eiji. 
> 
> And also, I'm lying if I said that the intimate scene in this fanfic is not inspired by that intimate scene from HIStory 3: Trapped lmao. In fact, I wrote it after I watched that particular episode where Tangyi and Shaofei frolicking. Their chemistry is so uncanny. 
> 
> If you have something to discuss or ask me about this fanfic or about anything else, feel free to hit me up on my [tumblr](http://grettalks.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/grettalks?s=09) :3


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